


The Danger Zone

by cryptbabey



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Character Study, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Gore, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulation, Medical Experimentation, Medical Procedures, Mental Instability, Military, Minor Character Death, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, There’s some comfort, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptbabey/pseuds/cryptbabey
Summary: Once in position they waited, and waited, in silence. Breakdown found himself rethinking the last holotape he had watched, some silly horror film that didn’t make any sense. The characters had run upstairs when attempting to get away, and all that did was corner them in. Then the monster had found them. It was kind of similar to this he guessed. Only in this scenario he was the monster. Eventually Motormaster gave the word and it was time. Wildrider was bouncing with joy as they gathered and transformed. Breakdown put away all his thoughts and worries, Menasor would take care of him for a while and he didn’t have to worry, he was indestructible.A loose and serious retelling of the war on Cybertron from the varying perspectives of the Stunticons, and their perspective of life as sentient weapons. Updates may be infrequent.
Relationships: Breakdown/Knock Out, Dead End/Perceptor (Transformers), Stunticons/Stunticons
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Turn Me Loose

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I originally wrote for fun, and now I'm posting it cause nobody else has given me a war fic like this. Each chapter is named after a fun 80s song I think fits the theme or I think just sounds good as a nod to G1. This first chapter is "Turn Me Loose" by Loverboy. Enjoy!

The first thing any of them felt was pain, being born was painful. The confusion each felt fell onto the next and amplified, then optics were opened and brief fear flashed within them. “They’re awake.” A calm voice broke out, a large purple mech, they couldn’t feel what he was feeling though. Why could they only feel each other and not him? Another mech was present, bigger and grey, pointed angles and bright purple insignia centered on his chest plate. He wasn’t a part of them either, he was different. He smiled, pointed denta bared as he looked over the five mechs. 

“Welcome, my name is Megatron, what are your names?” 

* * *

That is how things had started, brought into the world confused and then angry, they were always angry. The first time they made Menasor it was apparent that was one of the main things they all had in common. Breakdown always considered himself to be the sanest of the bunch, he wasn’t obsessed with dying, he didn’t throw himself into danger, he didn’t try to rile Motormaster up for fun, and his only downfall was his paranoia. He didn’t trust his gestalt members as far as he could throw them, of course none of them trusted each other really. Their bond was one forced out of necessity, but Breakdown couldn’t really trust any other mechs outside the gestalt either. Bonded by some cruel twist of fate to four other mechs. Dead End wasn’t so bad, he listened sometimes, and even though most of his musings sent Breakdown into a panic, at times it was comforting to know things didn’t matter because he’d be dead someday. After all, he hadn’t asked to be made by Shockwave. It depended on the mood Wildrider was in whether Breakdown liked him, most of the time he was insufferable and craved violence and discordance between the group. He could be okay when his sights were set on someone else. Dragstrip was second worst only to Motormaster and Menasor respectively. He was self-absorbed, and threw any mech under the bus he could. And he excelled at belittling Breakdown, someone should give him a medal for it, maybe Starscream gave them out? Motormaster was abusive, dimwitted, and used violence as his only option unless it was Megatron or a respected officer he was contending with. It was no wonder Menasor was defective in every way, the five of them matched together was a disaster. In reality it was helpless to think about, Breakdown could feel them all thinking at the same time. Usually he had his firewall up, but they were in a shuttle on the way to join the front line. Which meant they had to make Menasor, which meant he had to let the firewall down. 

Wildrider’s thoughts were the loudest, they always were on the way to a battle, he was excited. Truth be told he was always excited about something, but his excitement stemmed from how they all excelled at offlining Autobots. Breakdown himself was nervous, always nervous when it came to going to the front. If he messed up Motormaster would get him, and it could get more people killed if Menasor wasn’t there. Dragstrip’s end was fairly empty, he was snoozing where he was strapped into the transport shuttle, arms crossed over shiny yellow chassis and helm resting on Dead End’s shoulder so he wouldn’t move about. Dead End had been annoyed but said nothing, it wouldn’t be good to argue before making Menasor. That never boded well for them. And Motormaster was mildly angry, but him being in a good mood was scarier than the usual.

The shuttle was designed to house a squad of twelve or so regular sized mechs, they were so large they took up a little over half of the shuttle space and the other five mechs accompanying them were just foot soldiers. He had asked one what their squadron was and they were artillery support, he didn’t ask his name though. Dead End had advised against it, the mech would be dead in less than an hour anyways. If an Autobot didn’t get him they’d probably step on him by accident.

Motormaster sat next to Dragstrip and Dead End, and Breakdown had the unfortunate experience of sitting next to Wildrider on the opposite side of seating. The other mech was practically bouncing with unbearable anticipation and he had that disturbing smile he often sported. He had also been bouncing his leg, bumping it into Breakdown’s knee strut for the past half hour and the blue mech had gotten annoyed but Widlrider could feel that. So he had grinned and continued. Now Breakdown was practicing patience, soon they’d be Menasor and he wouldn’t have to think for awhile. And it did no good to tell Wildrider off, it only encouraged him.

Sounds and smells of battle came in more clearly, screaming, gunfire, machine artillery, the scent of ozone and death. It excited all of them, they all felt it. Menasor was always excited by these sensations, and Breakdown hated that he could feel the excitement back in his processor. The shuttle stopped as the noises got loudest, the ground shook with artillery fire and everyone began unbuckling themselves; Breakdown didn’t even have to look anymore. It was like muscle memory. Dragstrip was awoken by Dead End with a nudge and he stretched languidly, yawning even like this was a pleasant trip to the beach. The battle had progressed over the week to pin the Autobot forces against the Eastern shore of the Sea of Rust, Starscream had advised to send in Menasor to seek and destroy the hiding Autobot forces from the rubble of the neighborhood and the local vegetation. They were pinned and helpless against the shoreline and if they didn’t take care of it the Autobots would send in reinforcements.

Breakdown stepped off the shuttle and Wildrider rushed past him, the sounds of war more prominent as ever. They were behind cover for now, a large residential building that served as the temporary Decepticon command center for this outpost. The artillery men were already gone when Breakdown turned to warn them to stay out of their way, so they wouldn’t be unforeseen collateral damage. Next time he’d tell whoever it was in the shuttle instead of waiting. Wildrider vented in heavily and looked at Breakdown as a grin broke out on his faceplate, “Don’t you love that sound? Aren’t you excited!” It wasn’t a real question, so Breakdown ignored him as he began to prattle off his bet on how many Autobots they’d squish. 

“Let’s not waste time, transform and follow me.” Motormaster instructed, no doubt already receiving the battle plan from whomever the commander was for the assault. It wasn’t Starscream, he was all cozy back in high command. They all went into their alt modes and followed the leader. The roads were uneven and cracked from the fighting, and there were many troops moving around them into positions and lugging equipment and ammunition. The further they got away from the base of operations the noise became almost deafening. The Autobots would fire random artillery into the no-man’s land between them periodically to stave off assaults. And when a troop attempted to move in machine fire was sounded and then things became quiet until the next surge. Breakdown hated the quiet more than anything, but they couldn’t well talk this close to enemy positions so he endured. The only noise was the wind and their tires on the cracked asphalt. 

Once in position they waited, and waited, in silence. Breakdown found himself rethinking the last holotape he had watched, some silly horror film that didn’t make any sense. The characters had run upstairs when attempting to get away, and all that did was corner them in. Then the monster had found them. It was kind of similar to this he guessed. Only in this scenario he was the monster. Eventually Motormaster gave the word and it was time. Wildrider was bouncing with joy as they gathered and transformed. Breakdown put away all his thoughts and worries, Menasor would take care of him for a while and he didn’t have to worry, he was indestructible. 

* * *

“We successfully did the bare minimum boys, maybe Megatron will give us a pat on the back.” Dragstrip mused, kicking over the crumpled pede of an unfortunate Autobot they had stepped on, it rolled miserably across the pavement. The mission had been successful, and the remaining Autobot encampment had been eliminated quickly with Menasor’s help. The artillery had done little to do more than dent them, and with the focus of fire being on the giant combiner the other troops had quickly been able to overwhelm the Autobots. 

“We should all get medals for outstanding performance! Or at the very least most confirmed kills!” Wildrider kicked the pede back at him, and Dragstrip acted like he was going to kick it back but then kicked it off into the debris around them. “Hey!” 

“Do they count for all of us? The kills Menasor gets, or do they have their own kill count? I think these count as Breakdown’s kills, he is what crushed them after all.” Dragstrip’s smile turned malicious, he was attempting to get a rise out of Widlrider and the crazed mech growled in response. 

“No! They count as all of ours because we made the choice to step there together! We don’t have a sentient leg!” 

“Isn’t that what you are? A sentient leg? Shouldn’t discredit your fellow pede there Wildrider.” 

Breakdown ignored them both and sat down next to Dead End, their job was done after all; they were just awaiting new transport out of the ruined city while the troops moved in and captured survivors and injured Autobots. Motormaster was busy securing their ride, on comms with the extraction team, or maybe he was reporting back to Starscream, Breakdown wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. He could put his firewall back down if he was really curious but that spelled disaster. Dead End nudged him and gestured over to Wildrider and Dragstrip, the latter was now running away from the grey mech because he had found an energon covered arm and was threatening to ruin his paint with it. 

“How was that holotape you watched the other day?” 

Small talk was good, that meant they wouldn’t get in trouble when Motormaster started paying attention again. “It was scary. I could barely recharge after I finished.” Breakdown answered, and Dead End nodded. 

“Why do you watch those if they scare you so bad?” 

Breakdown shrugged, he had never thought about it before too hard. He looked away from Dead End’s neutral expression to watch Wildrider chuck the severed arm at Dragstrip. He had missed because the yellow mech had ducked out of the way. “I guess it’s because this stuff doesn’t scare me anymore.” 

* * *

Housing on base in Kaon was actually decent, in Breakdown’s opinion. Motormaster was very technically ranked as a captain, and they were all directly beneath them. But, combiners were all given a special rank, every captain answered directly to high command and at times all of them did. So, as such, the combiners all had their own housing in the base. It wasn’t as good as the actual captain’s quarters. Off the hallway there was a common space and then they were each given their own small berth room and there was a block of community washracks at the end of the hall. 

The floor above them was sergeants, and then captains, and the generals. He didn’t know where high command’s quarters were and he frankly never wanted to find out. Breakdown was content with his own space. He walked back from the washracks slowly, in no hurry to really enter his own common space for fear of what he might walk into. Sometimes it was chaotic, the opposite of relaxing. At times he took to avoiding it completely but there was nobody else to interact with really. Drones and other soldiers thought combiners were bad news generally, and the other combiners were just as bad. His only saving grace was that the Combaticons were out, they were unpleasant to nearly everyone.

He entered the code for the door and walked in, pleasantly surprised when he found it to be silent. Motormaster and Widlrider were nowhere to be found, Dragstrip was stretched out on the couch watching a holotape with his pedes up in Dead End’s lap and the latter was silently reading something on a datapad and humming every so often when Dragstrip would comment. The yellow mech glanced up at him for just a moment, not deeming it worth upsetting the balance to heckle him. Breakdown passed them by to walk to his individual room. 

“We’re getting debriefed at 0500 on level 35 for the next attack.” Dragstrip informed as he passed, and Breakdown stopped in his doorway, turning to glance at him. 

“We just got back though…” The other mech rolled his searing optics at the obvious statement but otherwise didn’t press Breakdown for his bewilderment. They had never been deployed so soon after, for fear of losing the advantage Megatron seemed to only deploy combiners as needed and very reluctantly.

“We’re being deployed as backup for Bruticus or something like that. I heard Superion almost gutted them the other day.” Dragstrip informed and that did nothing to help Breakdown’s nerves in the situation. “Better recharge while you can, going to be a fun morning.” The sarcasm was apparent, Breakdown checked his internal clock and it was already 2400. 

“Thanks for the warning I guess.” Breakdown sighed and walked into his room, shutting the door behind him he ventured over to his military issued berth. The room was small, there was a cabinet for belongings, it was full of old holotapes and standard issue hygiene tools. He also had an extra blanket in there he had traded a new buffer for with Swindle, the mech had prefered money but any deal he could make was usually struck. The room was rectangular, the entrance being on the shorter wall, a screen on the wall next to the berth which was oriented lengthways. The large mech laid down and dimmed the lights, curling up in his blanket and pillows until he was comfortable. He set an alarm so he wouldn’t be woken up in a hurry and tried to recharge. 

He woke up to the alarm and quickly shut it off before getting up to get ready. Really all he did was drink some energon and read off a datapad for fifteen minutes before he left his room. Everyone else was awake, Motormaster was reading a datapad silently, Deadend was hovering over his shoulder to read as well and Dragstrip and Widlrider were already bickering. This was fairly normal, usually Motormaster was already yelling at them though. It was as if the stars had aligned though and their leader checked the time and stood, leaving the datapad on a table and fixing Dragstrip and Wildrider both with a glare before they straightened out and they all started to follow him out of their habsuite. The walk to level 35 was mundane, everyone knew not to get Motormaster worked up before a war meeting. They crowded into an elevator with a few other mechs, and then filtered out to the meeting room. In the large room were only a few mechs of importance. Megatron was not present, Starscream and Shockwave were however. As well as Skywarp and Thundercracker, but they were always wherever Starscream was. There were a few other bots scattered around, so the combiners all took a seat and waited until the last few people came in and the meeting began. It was fairly boring, Starscream loved the attention and prattled on about the battle plan. He was only the air commander but he certainly loved to boss the combiners around like he owned them too, really Shockwave was in charge of them. “-and so after we have them distracted with the airstrike that is when we are going to send in Menasor to deal with Superion,” The seeker paused and looked to Shockwave who only nodded in agreement, “With the very  _ recent success _ of Menasor at the Sea of Rust, Shockwave and I thought it best to send them again to do what Bruticus could not achieve.” Starscream fitted Motormaster with a sly look, waiting for him to disagree to something clearly. However, Shockwave spoke first.

“I do have concerns, Starscream, for the mental and physical strain of maintaining Menasor for prolonged periods of time so close together. After this is done I would like to have some tests done on Menasor and the Stunticons, if they would agree.” Shockwave’s single red optic turned towards them and they all started to straighten up under his scrutiny. 

“If that is the order, commander Shockwave. We will follow through with the plan and then consent to testing for safety.” Motormaster commented and the Shockwave seemed pleased with the answer so he turned back to Starscream as if to let him continue. The seeker stopped glaring at him so he could return to his slides of battle plans.

“Excellent, now as I was saying-“ The rest of the meeting was boring, Wildrider kept kicking Breakdown’s seat to annoy him but it was better than paying attention to whatever Starscream’s frivolous power trip was about. He didn’t need to know the plan beyond when to make Menasor, nobody could control the combiner anyways. Menasor was a bot you set loose and then ran so they wouldn’t step on you, or worse. Once Starscream was done they filtered out of the room and as soon as they were out of earshot Wildrider grumbled dramatically, “You know Starscream  _ gets off  _ on bossing you around right, boss?” 

“He gets off on bossing anyone around. Shockwave was in agreement so we’re going.” Motormaster replied in a mundane tone, not even encouraging him with a glance. 

“I’d like to show that prim little seeker who’s in charge- who does he think he is anyways?” 

“Let it go, Wildrider.” Dead End chimed in and the other mech just turned around to make a face at him almost childishly and then a comfortable silence fell over the group. They were to head to transport immediately, the Combaticons were all getting repaired in the infirmary so it was up to them to corner Superion. 

* * *

Letting Menasor out again so soon after the last time felt weird. They were enjoying it far too much, Menasor enjoyed being in war. That’s what unsettled Breakdown the most about the titan, letting them take over and destroy everything. Superion was always tactical, they were difficult to fight, so much more articulate than Menasor. What they lacked in intelligence they made up for with pure rage and combativeness. They hadn’t seen the bomb drop, all they registered was Superion disbanding and the Aerialbots all flying off and then pain all over. Being forced from the combiner was always jarring, it put him into a state of shock as he fell and then he lost consciousness as he felt his helm bounce against the hard ground. 


	2. Lonely Is The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title for this chapter is "Lonely Is The NIght" by Billy Squier :)

The comms were down, that much Breakdown could tell by the lack of Motormaster yelling in his audial. He could still feel everyone though, they were all alive. If that was good or bad was to be determined. The mech opened his optics and tried to sit up but quickly realized the extent of his damages. His right arm was hanging on by the wires, and both his legs were very much gone and nowhere in sight. His pain receptors were thankfully shut off though. 

“Stop moving around. Medics are already on the way,” He jumped at the voice and turned his helm to see Dragstrip walking over. He was carrying his own arm and giving him a look over in contemplation. “Don’t run off.” A smile spread across his face as he sat the arm down next to Breakdown and started to glance around. He allegedly found what he was looking for and went over to dig it out from under the rubble. It was Breakdown’s leg, well one of them. 

He placed the leg down on the other side of Breakdown and then went off to find the other appendage. Dragstrip returned with the pede tucked up under his arm and placed it with the other and then looked over Breakdown more critically. He was leaking energon but nothing too severely, they had been engineered to take a big beating. The yellow mech seemed satisfied and sat down next to where Breakdown was laying prone, transforming his servo into his blaster. It was curious, Dragstrip acted different when he was alone with someone. He was more tame, less willing to argue with you. Now he was looking around cautiously, looking out for either the medical team or any Autobot stragglers. The sound of pedes began to approach and Dragstrip looked off in the direction of the noise. He stared for a few moments and then Breakdown sensed brief fear from him. “Play dead.” He whispered before he shifted as quietly as he could and then out of Breakdown’s limited field of vision to get behind cover. 

Panic immediately set in and everyone else besides him and Dragstrip were immediately confused, and then worried. Dead End was less worried and was trying to stay calm, no doubt to try and keep Breakdown from losing his cool. The blue mech heard the near silent pedes get closer and closed his optics, shutting off as many systems as he could besides his audials so he could play dead. The pedes came closer and closer, and then something nudged his helm, it was the tip of a blaster. 

“Got a con, might be dead though… It’s that combiner’s leg… Yeah he’s injured, in pieces. Might not even be worth taking in… I’ll send coordinates anyways.” That wasn’t a Decepticon. He was guessing it was an Autobot scout of some sort, looking for survivors. The mech squatted down and he heard him move his blaster from one servo to set it down next to his helm. Digits ventured over his neck cables to feel if he was alive or not. 

Dragstrip aimed his blaster and missed his initial mark but still hit the Autobot on the shoulder, making him cry out and turn just as he began to advance. The yellow bot jumped him quickly, punching his faceplate in and grappling with him on the ground, which was hard with one arm. Breakdown quickly turned his systems back on and pushed through the warnings to sit up, the Autobot was rolling around with Dragstrip exchanging blows, his blaster was still here next to him. He reacted quickly, his adrenaline setting in as he picked the gun up and aimed it at the two, they were moving around so much and his servo was shaking. Dragstrip just needed to keep him still…

The Autobot punched him across the face and rolled on top of the yellow mech, wrapping both his servos around his neck cables and Breakdown shot the blaster. Energon splattered out from the Autobot’s helm and down onto Dragstrip, he had shot him straight through the back of it and out his optic. The body swayed and then began to fall over onto the combiner who reacted quickly to push him off before he could get drenched in the spilled energon. 

“Ugh… Why didn’t you shoot him sooner?” Dragstrip grumbled, sitting up and dragging a servo across his own faceplate to rid it of the substance. It only smeared it though and he had to spit some out of his mouth. 

“I couldn’t get a clear shot...” Breakdown’s voice was quiet and Dragstrip realized his squadmate was near faint with stress so he stopped his grumbling and moved closer to take the blaster from his trembling servo. 

“Alright. Relax... You can go into stasis if you want. I'm going to have to move us anyways and if you’re freaking out it’ll just make things harder.” Dragstrip informed, looking around cautiously again and Breakdown hesitated but nodded in response. He could do that, he had done the same for Dragstrip before, carrying his frame back in pieces. He slumped against the rubble behind him and let the warning’s take precedence so he would go into forced stasis. 

When he woke he was in the medical transport, hooked up to a few machines but he was still sans his legs he noted. His vision was blurry and then all of a sudden yellow was filling up his vision. And someone was yelling at whomever the mech was, but then the mech was grabbing at him with familiarity and he faintly registered that it was Dragstrip. 

“-didn’t give him the pain medication! Put him back into stasis before he starts screaming-“ So Dragtrip was worried about him, or maybe he was just worried about feeling whatever Breakdown did through the gestalt. Either way it was a nice thought before he was forced back into stasis. When he awoke again he was actually in a real med bay, with walls and a privacy curtain around him. He was not as out of it as he had been before, and it was hard to tell how much time had really passed. Breakdown was aware of how much pain medication he was on though, he couldn’t feel anything. He tried his comms first and when that crackled with static he felt through the bond. It seemed everyone was in recharge or stasis, he knew everyone had been injured and he wondered if they were all in the same medical wing. One of them could be on the other side of the privacy curtain and he’d have no idea. 

Breakdown looked his own frame over, the dents were there and he was bandaged up, and his right arm was now attached at the least. He braced both arms on the medical berth and started to sit himself up, unknowingly setting off the berth alarm to the assigned medic. Before he could really do much else the privacy curtain was pushed back and a bright red and white mech strode in quickly, pressing a button and then pushing Breakdown back down without much preamble. He was a medic, which was why the blue mech didn’t have a mind to complain. “There’s an alarm on your berth, don’t try and sit up again-“ The medic glanced at the datapad next to his berth quickly and then turned back to look at him, “-Breakdown.” His voice was so smooth, even though the medic did sound rather put off by him moving around his voice was steady and smooth, like a song. He was only thinking this because of the copious amounts of drugs in his system, that was the excuse Breakdown was going with anyways. 

“Would you like to sit up?” He nodded and the mech leaned over Breakdown and tilted the head of the berth up for him. The mech smelled like antiseptic and wax, expensive wax too, the stuff Dragstrip accosted Swindle for occasionally. He could see his own reflection in his coat, and then he saw the designation plate on the mech. His name was Knockout, he was a doctor, obviously, and he was a fairly new one it seemed. Not high ranking at all, which was probably why he was assigned to this dead of the night shift as there were no other mechs Breakdown could hear around. Only the faint beeping of machinery and the occasional pedes going by.

“Thank you, doctor. I won’t do it again.” Breakdown tried to be polite to medics, most of them were pretty nasty though but he liked to believe they appreciated his cooperation. 

Knockout looked at his faceplate and an obviously practiced smile fell into place, “You’re welcome, Breakdown. I’m gonna send a nurse in to come do your vitals, I have work I need to get back to. If you need anything press this button.” The call light was pointed out to him and Breakdown nodded in response. The flashy medic seemed pleased and he turned and left the small area, pulling the privacy curtain back taut. He listened as he strode away purposefully, and then sat back to wait for the nurse to come instead.

* * *

Dead End jolted awake and quickly scanned the area around him, it was dark and his optics adjusted quickly. He was underground, fallen into a building’s basement after Menasor had been blown apart. His comm wouldn’t work underground but he tried it anyways, no response so he reached through the gestalt and knew everyone was injured, but fine. He relaxed some and started to look his frame over in the dark where he was laid against the rock. His red and grey frame was dented over in critical spots, and his chassis was cracked and leaking energon but otherwise he was fine. 

His helm snapped as footsteps started in the basement area, no light was coming through so he was effectively stuck until someone came to dig him up so nobody should be down here unless it was another Stunticon. He moved silently, transforming his blaster from his servo and getting up without disturbing any rubble around him. He dimmed his optics and brought his visor down, approaching through the small room towards the single hallway, the footsteps had stopped. Dead End peeked around the corner and then there was a blaster in his faceplate. 

“You move I shoot-” The Autobot’s voice was calm as the blaster was pointed at his face, Dead End looked past the barrel at the mech in question and he relaxed, familiarity taking over. “How come I always end up someplace with  _ you _ .” Preceptor's optics narrowed but not harshly, he even lowered his blaster once Dead End put his away. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t get so close to Menasor.” 

“I  _ wasn’t _ . I was down here trying to get medical transport for injured when you stepped on us and collapsed the building.” 

“Where are they, the injured?” 

“Underneath some rubble, dead.” Preceptor gestured for him to follow and Dead End was weak to listen. He had met Preceptor years ago when he had been captured briefly by Decepticons, he escaped and Dead End hadn’t stopped him. He had the chance to kill him or capture him again and he had let him go because the mech had seemed so frightened. And nobody had been around, he knew the fate Autobot prisoners were given. So he broke the stasis cuffs off without a word and let him go. Now whenever they ran into each other it was like some weird unspoken truce. 

He followed the shorter Autobot down the hall, seeing the rather makeshift medical set up and the pile of rubble that had fallen in. He ignored the pooling energon there and focused on Preceptor. “Sit down, Dead End.” The mech started to gather a few things and Dead End sat down on the ground as instructed, letting his optics brighten back up as the other mech came over and kneeled down in front of him, setting a few tools down. “Stay still.” 

They didn’t speak as Percy started to patch up his chassis, Dead End watched him work. It stung but Dead End was not going to complain, he only winced occasionally but otherwise didn’t move. Once Percy was done he looked his frame over again critically and Dead End wanted to squirm under the close scrutiny. Then he became very aware of Wildrider beginning to prod with his change of behavior and he put his firewall up harshly. It would take them longer to find him but he didn’t want anyone to hurt the Autobot. 

“You’re not hurt are you? I’m sorry I-” 

“You cannot control what Menasor does, it’s not your fault...” Preceptor's servo was still on his chassis, covered in energon and Dead End was hyper aware of the contact. The Autobot trailed off and Dead End was glad his visor was down, that way he didn’t know how intensely he was staring at him. Perceptor moved his servo away and stood, offering it to Dead End to help him up and he took it. His own energon slicked both their joined servos and it was unsanitary to say the least but it felt important to him. It was important that the Autobot trusted him. “Lets try and find a way out of here.” 

“Yeah… lets.” Dead End followed Perceptor back down the hall and both began looking at the walls and inspecting piles of caved in building. They were silent as they both searched, there was the small area Dead End had woken in with no exit, the hall with no exit, and then the room with the dead Autobots with no exit. Wonderful. 

“Hm… perhaps we should wait. Autobots will come before the Decepticons do. You can hide and I’ll lead them off then you can leave.” Percy explained, “I already had an emergency signal going out, someone should come soon.” He started to walk back to the opposite room, the one with the crushed bodies and then turned back around and sat down against the still intact wall. Dead End came over and joined him, sitting close to his side and the Autobot looked to him. “You could go back into stasis, I know it’s exhausting to transform into a combiner. And you’ve lost a lot of energon.” 

Dead End looked to him and shook his helm, “No- I’m fine. I should be okay I-“ 

“Dead End, it’s okay. I’ll wake you up when they get here.” The Decepticon furrowed his brows at the Autobot and he fixed him with an amused look because half his expression was obscured by his visor so he let his visor up and Percy huffed bemused. “You can recharge right there, I’ll stay awake.” Dead End sighed in exasperation and started to make himself comfortable against the wall. He was worn out and tired, and if he stayed awake eventually he’d just pass out so he closed his optics with a grumble. His arms crossed over his chest and helm tilted back against a divot in the wall so he wouldn't slide down or have his neck cables hurt later. He was hyper aware of Preceptor's presence next to him, the way his EM field was close but slightly open was inviting. He adjusted his own and Percy responded in kind by opening his just that bit much further. The Autobot trusted him implicitly, Dead End trusted him too. It wasn’t a good thing and he knew that, but he could wait to dissect that train of thought when he was alone back in his room. 


	3. Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully more regular-ish updates soon, school started and things got out of whack? probably will update every other week or so  
> this chapter title is based off "hit me with your best shot" by pat benatar

Motormaster was heavy, that was for sure. Wildrider huffed and readjusted his hold on the larger mech’s arms and legs. He had him in a fireman carry, up around his shoulders as he trudged through the desolate battlefield and rubble. Smoke surrounded them from the large explosion, it was hard to see, but Wildrider knew he was heading in the correct direction; aka away from the Autobot forces that were no doubt moving much faster than him and closing in on their position. After the explosion Wildrider had lost consciousness and woke up with a cracked chassis and split open leg armor. The latter of the two injuries was making the walking pretty hard to accomplish, but he continued, gritting his denta as pain shot up his leg again and again with every step. After he had gained consciousness he began looking for everyone else, and found Motormaster unconscious, helm split open, chassis barely there, and missing one entire leg and a servo. He was much sturdier than the rest of them were, his armor much thicker, but he had taken a majority of the bomb, along with Breakdown since Menasor had tried to move and ended up just getting their leg caught. 

He reached across the gestalt again briefly and found everyone else was still fine, Breakdown and Dead End were both unconscious as well but they felt safe at the very least. So that meant medics had found them, or they were altogether. Wildrider groaned as he rounded the corner of a collapsed building and he paused as he spotted figures in the distance, emerging from the smoke with search lights and approaching the same building. He, as quickly and quietly as he could with an injured leg and a huge combiner on his back, ducked back around the corner and hid. They ventured closer and he transformed a servo into a blaster while still having his arm hooked around Motormaster’s arms so as not to drop him. 

“-the signal came from this building… looks like Menasor stepped on it though.” 

“Percy could still be inside though, under some rubble, he said he had a few injured with him.” 

“Lets see if there’s a way in. Try Percy’s comm.” The two sets of voices spoke to one another, and Wildrider strained to stay upright, energon leaking out of his injured leg and down his pede to pool on the ruined street corner. He had left a trail of energon in the path he took, that was great. His train of thought was interrupted as one of the bots began to approach the corner, his pedes sounding like impending doom. 

“I’ll check around the corner for a way in.” Wildrider vented heavily, trying to calm himself. He could take this one Autobot easy, just shoot him as soon as he gets around the corner, drop Motormaster and then jump the other one. It was that simple. If anything he could use Motormaster as a body shield since he was already half-dead. The leader couldn’t be too upset about it since it was to save them both in the long run. The footsteps got closer, and closer, and-

“Hey! Percy said there’s a little hole on the East side of the building. We might be able to dig him out with just us two. Come on, it's the other side.” The footsteps stopped and he heard the Autobot huff as he turned and went back the other direction. The two walked together and around the other side of the building. Wildrider let out a shaky exvent and peered around the corner when the noise was far away. The Autobots were both gone, he heard them start moving rocks and debris out of the way actually as it echoed in the empty landscape. Motormaster groaned above him and Wildrider shushed him vehemently, hoping the larger mech was not waking up and would stay in stasis longer. His hopes were shot down as Motormaster began to murmur, clearly pained as his optics online themselves. Before he could utter a word Wildrider put a servo up and covered Motormaster’s mouth. He shushed him once again and then timed his next movement with the sounds of moving rocks. The combiner carefully removed Motormaster from his shoulders and sat him down on the ground against the wall, kneeling down overtop him with a servo clamped over his mouth still. The Stunticon leader groaned into the servo, his optics clenching shut and Wildrider made a symbol with one of his servos and digits. It was sign for “A”, Motormaster watched and nodded, there were Autobots nearby. Wildirder then held up two digits and then paused and then three and Motormaster again nodded in understanding, there were three of them at least, one in the building. He watched as the smaller mech then held one single digit up to his lips to signal to be quiet. 

Wildrider stayed there and they both waited, in pain and leaking energon, for the Autobots to finish digging. It was only a few minutes before they were done and Wildrider peeked around the corner to watch the three Autobots come back into view. He leaned a little two far and a piece of the building corner he had leaned against crumbled off and he quickly had to duck back around the corner. The three Autobots all turned to the source of the noise and a voice Wildrider hadn’t heard before spoke, must be Percy. “It was just the building… lets go before we run into trouble.” 

The two Stunticons waited with baited breath until the footsteps were far far away and they could no longer hear anything. Wildrider turned to Motormaster, “I’m gonna check out ahead and make sure it’s safe. Try not to pass out.” And with that he slunk out of behind the corner finally and walked towards where the Autobots had been digging on the other side of the building, trying to hug the collapsed wall as much as he could. He steeled himself and rounded the other corner quickly, seeing another figure in front of him but before he could fire the figure spoke and he realized who was in front of him. “Wildrider- where are the others?” 

Dead End stood before him, it looked like he had come around the other side of the building perhaps, or at least from that direction, it didn’t matter, Wildrider could weep for how relieved he was to see the other combiner. “I have Motormaster with me- come help me carry him.” Wildrider turned and led the red mech back around the building to their leader. Dead End followed diligently, and actually ended up carrying Motormaster instead since he wasn’t as injured. Wildrider walked ahead with his blasters out, they were much faster this way, Dead End wasn’t bleeding out and his legs were fine so he could support the weight of their leader much easier than the other con. 

The walk was slow, and quiet, none of them wanted to speak for fear of making too much noise and attracting attention. Dead End could tell Wildrider was curious about what had happened to him when they had separated, but it could wait till later. Motormaster had gone into forced stasis awhile ago, the energon loss being too much for even his stubbornness. They walked for only around an hour before a Decepticon search and rescue team found the three mechs and took care of both Wildrider and then Motormaster. Being put on a med transport was much better than walking. 

* * *

Breakdown woke up again and strained against the berth, his pain medication was wearing off it seemed. His whole frame ached all over, but that was usual for the extent of injuries he sustained. He checked the time idly on his hud, his recharge schedule was messed up, since it was the middle of the night. He grumbled and reached to the side of the berth and pressed the button so he was sat up at least. He had seen the nurse and doctor do it a hundred times by now, so he knew exactly where to press without really looking. 

It had only been two days since he had come to the med bay, but since then he was assured the rest of the Stunticons were fine or also recovering, so he had nothing to worry about. Not that he had been worrying, it was just frightening to think about the only people you were actually somewhat, even if minisculely, attached to being gone. He hated that. He hated that he cared, he shouldn’t care, but if anyone was dead then they’d be rendered useless. A combiner unable to combine.

The privacy curtain opened slightly and Breakdown nearly jumped right out of his frame, having not heard the pedes approaching. The white faceplate of Knockout peeked in and his optic ridges lifted in surprise that the other mech was conscious. The curtain opened more and the doctor schooled his expression into a calm smile. “Well, looks like you’ve messed up your recharge schedule quite a bit, Breakdown.” There was no brief pause when he stated his designation this time, and the red and white medic strode into the small area. Elegant servos reached out and checked his IV bag, tsking at the empty contents and then the doctor began to replace it wordlessly. 

Breakdown watched his servos intently, and then flustered a little when he realized how zoned out he had been. He’d never seen a medic with such a flashy frame. Maybe his original designation wasn’t medical? “Um.. yeah. It’s not that bad though… Lot quieter now than during the day.” 

Knockout adjusted the new bag as he hooked the tubes up, humming his agreement. Red optics flicked to his orange faceplate ever so briefly and the doctor smiled at him. “Very true. Not so quiet now that you’re awake though.” The tone was teasing, Breakdown smiled meekly as the mech leaned back and started to look over the other machines hooked up to him. Technically the nurse was supposed to do what the medic was doing now, but since his IV bag had been empty it seemed Knockout was determined to make sure everything else was fine. “Did you wake up because your meds ran out?” Breakdown shrugged, “How would you rate the pain right now? On a scale of one to ten?” He didn’t look up from the small datapad produced from his subspace, that was until Breakdown didn’t answer and those red optics flicked back up to meet the combiner’s, “Did you hit your helm or are you going to answer me?” 

“Oh!- Uhm.. I guess it’d be a… like a four? It’s not so bad.. Sorry.” Breakdown’s faceplate heated in slight embarrassment and the medic turned his gaze back down to type away on the datapad. His sharp digits tapped on the screen in a pleasant soft tapping sound. 

“Hmm.. Not just saying that to impress me are you? You combiners are fairly sturdy, but still.” The red mech smirked and caught Breakdown’s gaze again, and hummed his approval when the blue mech shook his helm. “If you need anything you can just call for me. The nurse obviously isn’t doing their job, I’m going to have to find out who’s assigned to you and have to write them up..” Knockout shifted, clearly annoyed with the prospect of more work, he sighed rather dramatically, “You’re very… quiet for a combiner… which one are you a part of again?” 

Breakdown was a tad taken aback by the question, no medic had ever really been curious enough to ask or care. “Menasor… the uh- big mean one. Well I guess they’re all big and uh... mean.” The blue mech’s faceplate started to heat, realizing he was talking in circles, “-b-but, they’re the one with the uh- horns. And the sword.” 

Knockout’s smile widened brilliantly and a light chuckle came from his mouth, he was quick to cover his mouth and calm himself though since they were in a quiet medbay. “Yes, I’m familiar with your work. Big fan... Especially all the friendly fire you do when you step on the artillery support and I have to put them back together.” This only caused Breakdown further embarrassment and Knockout seemed to enjoy his response momentarily. “Don’t get so worked up on it, I’m just messing with you… You are very polite though, Breakdown. Every other combiner that’s come through is usually very demanding.”

The blue mech tried to relax some and sighed, “Well- um.. thanks? I don’t think it’d be wise to be rude to a medic.” 

“You’d think that… I’ll leave you to it then, Breakdown” The mech placed the datapad into his subspace and looked over the IV again before he turned to walk back to the curtain, “Oh- you want me to leave the curtain open? I’m the only one around- well, awake. My desk is just over there actually, so if you need something you can just wave.” The red mech opened the curtain a little more and pointed out the desk across the medbay. The lights were dimmed throughout the space, and he could see a few empty berths across the way as well, he couldn’t see much more than that from his limited viewpoint. 

Brief panic started in his processor, anyone could walk by and look at him. And just as soon as it had come it went away when he realized everyone else was  _ asleep _ . The only person who would be looking at him was Knockout. The combiner looked over and caught the patient gaze of the medic, and Breakdown gave a nod as his answer and Knockout’s smile returned as he opened the curtain at the foot of the berth completely. The curtains on his sides were closed but there was no telling if anyone was in those berths or not. 

“If you need something let me know, I practically don’t do anything this entire shift anyways so don’t feel bad about bothering me either.” Knockout spared his patient one last glance before he continued his stride to his desk just a bit away. Breakdown’s faceplate was still filled with a flush.

* * *

“-wake him up if I want to! His recharge schedule is fucked anyways, I’m  _ helping  _ him!” Dragstrip’s voice was loud in his audials and Breakdown’s optics opened fast, and his body attempted to sit up even faster than that. Dragstrip and Dead End both jumped back but they quickly relaxed. “Primus- calm down. It’s only us. Lay back down before the nurse yells at us again.” Dragstrip ventured closer and pushed Breakdown back down flat on the berth with a servo on his shoulder. 

Breakdown evened out his venting from his earlier surprise, and willed himself to relax. It was only Dead End and Dragstrip. “What’re you two doing here?” 

Dragstrip rolled his optics and turned to Dead End, sighing loudly, “You see how ungrateful he is? We should-“ 

“We came to see how you were doing. You and Motormaster are the only ones still injured.” Dead End cut off his gestalt member with an even tone, and Dragstrip seemed put off but not enough to argue and make a scene out of it. 

Breakdown brought a servo up and rubbed his faceplate tiredly, “Where’s Wildrider?” He looked around cautiously through his digits, hoping the excitable mech wasn’t there so he wouldn’t be too stressed out. 

“He’s getting checked out by Shockwave. After you and the boss are good to transform he’s gonna run a bunch of tests on us.” Dragstrip explained, leaning over and reading off of Breakdown’s chart.

“Don’t worry, Shockwave just runs mental tests and then has someone give you a normal medical exam. He just asks a bunch of easy questions to see if making Menasor so frequently and for so long has done anything to you.” Dead End was quick to reassure Breakdown and it was good that he did. Shockwave wanting to run tests on them was never good news, the purple mech gave him the creeps. His unblinking and cold faceplate, that searing red optic, it was definitely creepy. Transforming into Menasor had done something to him though. When they transformed so often it was easier to feel what Menasor would feel even when they weren’t combined. The titan was a part of all of them so it only made sense, but it was definitely unsettling when your stream of thought was interrupted with something uncharacteristically angry or violent.

Breakdown opened his mouth to ask for more clarification on what these tests would be like, his servo going back into his lap but Dragstrip spoke first, a sly grin on his faceplates as he leaned over the berth into Breakdown’s space. “So, are there any hot nurses you’ve won over with your  _ sparkling  _ personality or should I help you out?” The blue mech’s optics widened and he blushed furiously, Dragstrip laughed. 


End file.
